


missed flights

by cheriecolas



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: M/M, agent chuck, casey goes off on a mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 00:39:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16733709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheriecolas/pseuds/cheriecolas
Summary: "From what we know, the team’s mission has been and is unsuccessful. We have been unable to get in contact with any individual members after the firefight and subsequent explosion, but all were briefed prior on what to do if such an event were to occur. We pray for the safety of all your families."





	missed flights

That was the fourth time Sarah had placed her hand on Chuck’s knee. She didn’t _need_ words to say _‘stop being so nervous’_.

 

It might’ve been because he was on his second coffee of the fifth hour, but all the former Intersect’s mind and body could do was race. He found his fellow agent’s hand, and he squeezed it tightly.

 

_From what we know, the team’s mission has been and is unsuccessful. We have been unable to get in contact with any individual members after the firefight and subsequent explosion, but all were briefed prior on what to do if such an event were to occur. We pray for the safety of all your families._

 

He could be fucking dead. Dead, blown to smithereens in _Sandistan_ \-- because knowing any specific name in the Middle East was always too much for him-- and Chuck wasn’t there with him. The nerd had always promised himself he would be there until the end, but he might have let him die the farthest apart they’d ever been.

 

Roughly 7,559 miles, if he wanted to be exact.

 

And he didn’t, because he just wanted him _back here._

 

“...Sarah, I was talking to him three nights ago, I--” Bartowski’s voice hardly sounded like his own when he spoke. He felt like he had been submerged underwater and all his senses were murky, but he could breathe just fine.

 

“Chuck, for all we know, he’s fine and on the flight back,” bubbled beside his ear. Walker gave his hand a squeeze. “It should be landing soon.”

 

“He could’ve been on any of 3 other earlier flights, Sar.” They had been waiting for _hours_ , and both knew they would wait more if they had to.

 

“I know, Chuck,” she said. There wasn’t much else to say. So they watched planes taxi and lift off and touchdown, and the former asset couldn’t help but wonder if the agent would be on _any_ of these.

 

* * *

 

_“Now arriving: Passenger Flight from United Arab Emirates.”_

 

Chuck couldn’t help when he gripped Sarah’s hand like it was a panic button, or when he whimpered, _“please, God, please”_. He stood, hoping to see the man as early as possible. People filed out and mixed in with the flood of passengers coming from every-which-way. As more faces passed by that weren’t who he was looking for, his hopes fell and the statistics worsened. Bartowski could feel his body beginning to shake with sobs, and it took all his willpower to keep tears from spilling over.

 

Maybe it was a delusion or a miracle, but an image flicked in and out of his vision. A man; more tanned than when he left, with a sharper military buzz cut than Chuck preferred but loved all the same, perhaps looking a little worse for wear, but... that was _him_.

 

“... _Casey?_ ” The tears that had been threatening to fall made good on their promises as his agent stepped closer. At some distance, he couldn’t be a mirage anymore, could he? Before the man had the opportunity to speak his name, Bartowski leaped at him and pulled him into a fierce hug, the one he had been saving up for months.

 

“Chuck...” he murmured, gruff but lovingly, into the younger man’s ear as he wrapped an arm around his waist and cradled the back of his head with a hand. The kid had already buried his face into John’s chest, where he lets his body be racked with sobs.

 

“They said they didn’t know where you _were_ \--Iloveyou--or if you were _alive_ \--Iloveyou--and I was so fucking…” He was crying too hard to speak and had to match his breaths to Casey’s. He focused on the comforting and familiar hand running along his back, and the kiss placed to the top of his head.

 

“Breathe, kid. _Breathe_. I’m right here.” Casey retracted Chuck from his shoulder, moving his hands to cup his nerd’s face and swipe the tears staining his cheeks with his thumbs. Bartowski sniffled, finding it so hard but _refreshing_ to really _look_ at him again.

 

“... I was _scared_.” He took a shuddering breath, placed one hand delicately over John’s, and continued. “Scared I was never gonna see you again, scared my last words to you were gonna have been _‘bye, asshole’_.” Despite his tears he managed to laugh, which manifested more as a series of pulsing shakes in his chest and exhaling air out of his nose. “I--I didn’t, want some stupid consolation flag folded up in a triangle if... if it meant you weren’t coming home.” A new set of waterworks spilled over and streaked down his face, and Chuck couldn’t looking his agent in the eyes anymore.

 

“Hey. Hey, kid. Look at me,” John spurred. “I wanna see those damn brown eyes I was fightin’ for.” When the junior agent obeyed, he let out a low whistle. “There… we… go.” Callused thumbs swiped back and forth over Chuck’s cheeks, and the agent showed off the softest smile he had in a very long time. “I never _once_ stopped thinkin’ about you. Didn’t matter if I was eating, sleeping, planning, or in the middle of a fuckin’ firefight, I was thinkin’ about who I was comin’ home to.” He paused. “... And who I’d be leaving if I didn’t.” Casey leaned in to whisper, “Didn’t want Walker headin’ off with a piece of my merchandise.” Chuck hardly contained a yelp when his boyfriend palmed his ass.

 

“We! Are in! _Public!_ ” His fingers dug into the fabric of the man’s shirt as a blush colored his cheeks, and he glared to imply they were moving past that. The NSA agent’s forehead rested against the nerd’s, and there was a moment of peace around and between them. “... I can’t believe you’re really… _here._ And _real_.”

 

“Wanna see how _real_ I can be, champ?” Casey had a wicked grin as he leaned back to quirk a brow.

 

“Literally what did I _just_ say to you--?!” Lovingly exasperated, Chuck let his face drop into John’s chest. After wiggling his way deeper into his arms, he lifted his head to grumble. “... Glad to see war hasn’t changed _you_ , though.” He made sure to turn his head so the man could see the playful squint he had going on but found himself looking into eyes far more grave. “... Case?”

 

“I… didn’t know if I was gonna die out there,” said Casey, “but I knew no matter what I wanted to make sure some part of me got home to you.” He fished an opened envelope out of his pocket. When Chuck gave him a questioning look, he explained, even as his voice warped and changed, “I was gonna mail it if I wasn’t sure I…” Neither of them wanted to think about it, so they moved on. “But when I got on the plane, I needed something to do with my hands, so I was toyin’ with ‘em, but…” The agent handed it over, and Bartowski fished out what lay within it.

 

Dog tags.

 

“Casey, I…” The nerd glanced from where the chains laid pooled in his hand up to the man, and his expression softened. Wordlessly, he held out the tags to Casey. _Will you do the honors?_ His eyes fluttered shut as they were looped over his head and settled onto his chest. He instantly began to fiddle with them between his fingers. When he looked back up, his first real smile for the past several months bloomed on his face. “I love it.”

 

Fingers tangled into his curls and found purchase at his waist, and he was tugged into a kiss. It held every single thing they had missed about each other for how long and how far apart they were gone. It was probably a little inappropriate to be going at each other like hungry teenagers, but it could be excused. _(Primarily because they were all currently carrying live rounds.)_ Chuck’s hands slipped up to wrap around Casey’s neck, and he had never been more happy to pray to God than in that moment. When they finally came up for air, Casey brushed curls out of Bartowski’s eyes, glowing with adoration.

 

“... I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> this has been chillin' in my docs for a while.... thankies to ty to sprucing up the grammar and squeaking and squealing about it over call! :D


End file.
